Prince of Darkness
by Carolare Scarletus
Summary: Sirius Black has gone mad with power. He lost his father to it, now it was threatening to take him. Locked up in a lonely cell in his manor, Severus Snape comes to him during his time of need. His only proposition is to take the Dark Mark, which he vows will save him.


**House:** Slytherin

 **Category:** Themed

 **Prompts:** Sirius Black [Character]

 **Genre:** Dark; Angst

 **Timeline:** N/A

 **Word count: 4046** (Excluding Author's Note, but including entire Entry and Title)

 **Warning:** This is an AU (Alternate Universe) where Sirius Black is coerced to join the Death Eaters by Severus Snape. There is some macabre description somewhere in the middle I'd like y'all to take note of, as well.

 **Note:** There is a very mild usage of mature language sprinkled throughout the piece.

 **Characters:** Sirius Black; Severus Snape.

 **Summary:** Sirius Black has gone mad with power. He lost his father to it, now it was threatening to take him. Locked up in a lonely cell in his manor, Severus Snape comes to him during his time of need. His only proposition is to take the Dark Mark, which he vows will save him.

 **Author's Note:** This piece didn't go exactly to plan. With a 5,000 max word limit, the entire work was reaching 6,000+ words. I hope this appeases y'all until I find the time to include everything that I wanted :)

 _As always, enjoy._

-Carolare Scarletus

* * *

 **Prince of Darkness**

* * *

Sirius Black scraped his nails against the stoned floor of his chambers. A jolt of hot wires danced across his skin. His mind began to slip, and finally his master was able to invade his mind. Sirius tried to keep from groaning out in pain. His master continued to torment his mind and body, abusing his weakened state until he was satisfied with the results. He was knocked down by an unseen force, placing him right into the dampen dirt of his cell. A low chuckle sounded from all directions, and before he blacked out, a flash of red emerged from the darkest corner of his cell.

"Save me," Sirius implored, clawing at the increible rope of magic as it wound itself around him. Severus Snape watched him heartlessly as he struggled to breath. He'd come as a saving grace; his visits had been frequent, especially during the last couple of months. It was as if he'd been anticipating this.

"This power you weild, it is destroying you." Severus looked down, emotionless.

"The mark," Sirius began cautiously, not knowing how well his question would take with his friend."This alliance. Why was it formulated in the first place? Who are we destined to serve for all eternity?"

Severus turned his head towards the general direction of his friend. "We serve something incredibly powerful, Sirius," he told him softly. "We could not fight it. If it wanted us torture someone, we did it. If it wanted us to kill someone, we did so with no questions asked. Those who fought it were severely punished. Anyone who did not do its bidding exactly how he wanted were punished as well."

"Who is this ' _it_ ' you speak of?" Sirius insisted angrily. He was growing tired of his friend speaking of the unseen force behind his agony when it clearly was something more. "What did you mean he could not _fight_ it? Did he not have a full grip on himself and his reality?" When Severus did not speak Sirius screamed," Tell me!"

Severus did not speak at first.

Instead, he turned to him with pain in his eyes before finally saying,"I cannot tell you that."

"Cannot or _will_ not?" he sneered. "If you cannot tell me about what entity that forces you to do its bidding, then at least tell me about the mark and alliance."

It was as if the heavens opened up. A strong light had broken through the impenetrable barrier of his eyes. A smile slowly formed upon Severus' lips. It seemed, this is what he'd been waiting for all along, for him to inquire about the mark and alliance.

"What do you wish to know?" Severus asked as his smile stretched across his face until it reached his eyes. A display of sincere pride and accomplishment was plastered to his young, pale face. It was clear that he could not be any prouder of Sirius and his unrestrained interest.

"I wish to know what it is. What this mark means and who this alliance was made with."

"Very well," he said then paused," I will tell you." Severus began to roll up his sleeve, presenting Sirius his left forearm as he had previously stated where all marks were placed.

Sirius narrowed his eyes on the inked skin, taking in the full mark as much as he would allow himself. The mark was relatively simple; a skull with its jaw wide open as to allow a snake to slither through the large opening of where its mouth would be. The snake itself was coiled into a lose twist, its head dangling dangerously from the bottom of the skull whilst looking up and bearing its sharp teeth and long tongue. Sirius watched silently as the snake began to move and writhe underneath their gaze; the snake twisted around, its tail leaving the impressive hold of the skull's jaw. The skull opened its mouth, allowing the snake to move around as it pleased.

"This is how it makes us do its bidding," Severus said, not bothering to place the sleeve of his shirt over it. Once seen, it cannot be unseen. "It was a mean of communication, an instrument to inflict pain and torture. Whatever it asked us to do, we did it. Those who fought, and trust me most did, were severely punished. They were promised something for their loyalty and cooperation, and when it asked them to do something, it expected absolute obedience. There was only so much one could take before they gave up and allowed it to completely taken over them."

Sirius glowered at him with newly found anger. "How long did you fight until you gave up, _Severus_? How long before you allowed this _thing_ to touch your flesh and blood? How _long_!"

"Years! I fought for _years_ until one day I could no longer fight it!" Severus bellowed. "You are not the only one who suffered, Sirius. I suffered as well. Along with you and the rest of the Followers, I was also being punished when I did not comply with its demands. Did I did _not_ want to kill,to maim and steal. But, it _made_ me."

"Liar," Sirius hissed, his voice rising to a crescendo. Dark magic began to swirling threateningly around him. It was then that he realized that his friend's loyal companions had left the room, leaving the two of them to sort out whatever differences that may have. Luckily, Sirius would be able to make right of his promise. "You lie! You could have easily fought it, but you chose to do its bidding! If you had been so damn weak you would have succeeded in overthrowing it!"

"Sirius," Severus hissed. "You know not of what you speak. You do not know the full wrath of its vengeance and anger; if you did, you would understand that it cannot be fought, no matter how hard one tries. I tried to fight it with all of my strength. I was the one who took the punishments when I could not do what it asked of me. Do you not understand what I went through to protect you?"

"Protect me?" Sirius chuckled darkly. "Protect me from _what_? You or the thing that dwells inside of us? _What_ were you trying to protect me from?"

Severus stared at his friend. Magic continued to swirl around him in large quantities. The dark purple hued substance snapped at him like snakes. It coiled around Sirius legs and arms tightly, searing painful licks into the skin of his exposed arms. He appeared not to notice the newly acquired marks that his own magic was giving him; his concern was not that but getting the truth he had been searching for most of his life. He wanted answers, but Severus could not bring himself to speak. He needed to calm his friend done before he did something extreme and irreversible. He approached him with caution, panic rising inside him as he took small, calculated steps towards him. Sirius was clearly not himself; his eyes had adopted a darker tone, his softly kissed skin had grown completely pale, and his attentiveness was solely on him. If Severus was not careful, if he did not try to calm him down, he would lose his friend before the ritual even commenced.

"I tried to protect you from it." His voice broke as he spoken the forbidden words of his true feelings. A small stab of pain shot up his arm, almost preventing him from saying what he wanted to say next. "I am _so_ sorry."

"You could have stopped it!"

Severus continued to approach him with slow steps. "I couldn't. I tried, but I couldn't. You must understand that-"

"No," Sirius

"Sirius," he whispered.

His attention snapped immediately towards the voice that called him.

"You _must_ calm down."

" _No_." In a flash, the magic that had unknowingly accumulated around Severus enveloped him in a tight embrace. The entire room was thrusted into uproar; the sound of wood breaking, décor tearing loudly on the poorly-polished floor, scraping legs of chairs, and crashes of expensive crystal glasses falling and smashing to the floor into tiny pieces filled the room. A turbulent surge of dark magic began to fill the room in a tumultuous storm of unadulterated rage and untapped sources. Soon, the room was torn apart. Pieces of glass, remnants of books, furniture and unrecognizable heaps of misshapen debris scattered the once pristine and orderly room. Severus fought against the unbreakable hold that his friend had on him. Sensing the struggling, Sirius began to laugh. An acrimonious sound joined in the morbid symphony of that his magic had created. He slowly let go of his reign on him; he stepped away, watching as Severus fell to the ground where he rightfully belonged. Out of complete rage, he swung his right leg back and kicked him directly in the side. He laughed, watching as his friend gripped his bruising side. Severus took in giant breaths of air before Sirius struck him again, this time focusing all his strength and energy into the blow.

Severus let out a scream that sounded like Heaven to Sirius's ears. Yes, this is what he was waiting for: he had been patient, but his friend was to blame for his injuries. It was his own damn fault that he was in the situation in which he found himself in. He was the only one Sirius could possibly find responsibility for years of relentless torment and torture. Now, he was getting retribution.

Sirius bent down, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and brought his face to his. "Tell me, was this what he did to her? Did he kick her side until they were nothing but purple bruises? Or, perhaps," he eyed his unclothed sleeve, sending a hateful glare to the mark that represented everything he had been taught and conditioned to uphold," did he mark her with that damn insignia of his? Should I do the same to you? Should I mark your skin until the only things you see are deep grooves and rivers of blood? Maybe I should cut strips of your skin off and force you to eat it." Sirius tightened his grip on his collar. "All the horrid things you have done to me, I will make it look like a courteous gesture of yours. I _swear_ I will get my retribution. I plan on enjoying torturing you immensely before I let death take you to the eternal depths of Hell. Before I am through with you, you will wish you hadn't double-crossed me, that you _didn't_ harm me, and touch something that even _I_ know I shouldn't want. You will pay _dearly_."

"The images of my past were quite educational, to say the least. I'm rather pleased to know that they have been revealed to me after a peaceful slumber. What was your intention of opening them back up?" Sirius inquired without fully understanding why he asked. "Was it so the awakening began exactly when you bid it to, or did you want me to be completely vulnerable for an attack?"

"S-Sirius." Severus gasped in between large doses of pain.

He eyed him as if he were contemplating kicking him again. Instead, he stepped away from. He turned around and faced him, crossing his scared arms across his bare chest. He almost forgotten he was vulnerable from the waist up. Either way, he would not allow his friend to touch him. Not now. Not _ever_ again.

"This mark." He began, removing himself more from his friend proximity. "If I am destined to eventually take it, then I wish to continue to press my luck. Eighteen years and I still have not received it. It seems highly odd that, even though others received it, I haven't received a single transmitted thought. How incredibly odd; and, you say that this thing communicates with its followers in several ways." He picked up one of the more appealing blade, twirling it around in his hands, watching as the faint flicker of the hearth reflected in its silver tongue before dying out. "My question is why I haven't received a single command from it."

Severus coughed several times as he attempted to answer. "The mark- you m-must take it now, Sirius. We do not have any more time to waste with worthless questions and inquiries."

"Worthless questions," he tested the words thoughtfully. "Yes, worthless questions. Nothing but a comical joke for you, huh, friend?" Sirius stopped playing with the blade. Tossing it to the wrecked surface of the desk in which it was placed, he finally turned back to find that his friend had removed himself from the floor and was now trying to keep himself from falling. He chuckled at the state that his friend was in. "Why on earth would I take the mark, now? What could I possibly gain by taking the mark? Did I not make it clear that I want absolutely nothing to do with your organization?"

Severus 's almost taunted him with the notion that he would not be able to receive retribution if he was six feet in the ground. Sirius was not aware, but he was on a strict time limit. As they spoke, it was sending out painful waves of magic to pump inside his body. He had tried to conceal it with counter-measurements, but his friend's attack had broken his concentration. It was taking a great deal of energy to block both distinctive forms of pain out. Sirius was so firm with his conviction that he almost thought he would refuse again.

 _Make him_ , the voice persisted. _Stun him and make him take the mark!_

 _No, the ritual has to be performed with a willing and conscious subject._

This argument continued until something so wonderful and strange drowned out the voice's commands. He almost fell to the ground in shock when he raised his head to his friend.

It was in his eyes that he knew. Sirius had finally let go, allowing whatever was dying to fully take control of his body, mind, soul, and emotions to do what it was destined to do. Within seconds of his compliance, the voice spoke again, this time congratulating him on his friend agreeing to take the mark.

It was an incredible moment and feeling to once again be engulfed by the splendid veil of darkness. Everything seemed to be vanquished by the perpetual darkness of his friend's decision. Sirius did not understand everything his friend had told him. All he knew is that he really didn't want to be without these wonderful, teasing touches that only darkness could provide. Everything felt right when he was encased by it; though, there were a few things that he could not accept. Those things would be better off forgotten; there was no telling if he would even remember anything about this night. The thing inside him began to tell him to forget, to never look back, and look forward. He did as he was instructed, but turned back once so he could say his final goodbye. Maybe one day he would see her again. Maybe things would be different between them, too.

Even though this goodbye was an everlasting tug upon his heart, he did not forget who had taken her life. Who had ordered her to be slain like some wild animal in need of being taken out of its misery? Lily Evans did not deserve to go the way that mutt had been ordered to do; he would hunt him down to the edges of the earth just to get the retribution he wanted from him before he sought out his own friend's demise. Only then, he may be satisfied. Like some unquenchable thirst, Sirius felt the need to extend his rage, anger, sadness, and every other human feeling to everyone else who dared to get close to him. He only had one previous thing in his life and he would protect her until life allowed him his, final breath and death took him.

Sirius watched as a swirl of black smoke began to swirl around them in an erotic dance. The unknown substance brought them uncomfortably close to one another. He eyed the injured man with a questionable flick of his eyebrow. If close proximity was needed to begin the ritual, then where did the knives and ancient scripture fit in?

"You still have not fully awaken, my friend." Severus said. He had regained some composure. Due to the fact that his magic was mingling with his friend's, or the incomprehensible force that drove him unto madness, Sirius did not know.

Sirius stopped watching the pleasant display of their magic long enough to take a good, analytical look at him. Somehow, he seemed and felt stronger. As if the tempting dance of their magic was somehow healing him. Sirius narrowed his eyes on the side that he had kicked only minutes prior to consenting to the ritual. From what he could tell, there was still some level of discomfort in the area that his foot had struck. He snarled. After kicking him, what was the point if he could easily heal himself after each deadly administered maims? What was it to this magic that made it so damn desirable as it was powerful? Was there something that he overlooked?

Severus moved closer to window, willing their conjoined magic to force Sirius to follow. There was no need for him to do so when he had agreed to do whatever he had silently asked of him. He watched carefully as he picked up the blade that he had played with. He raised his dominant hand in the air, inspecting the blade, the decorative hilt and sharpness before a satisfactory grin appeared on his face. He turned to Sirius, who in return gave him a quizzical look.

"Blood must be offered."

"Alright," but he did not know exactly what that meant. If he needed blood, then he could prick his finger and use his. Why tell him when his blood was so readily available?

"Let me correct myself." Severus stated. "I need your blood in order to perform the ritual."

Sirius frowned, feeling the enthusiastic push and pull of his magic. "Why do you need my blood?"

"In order for you to take the mark you need to present your blood as an offering. It's a sign of loyalty and obedience; if you do not do it and proceed with the ritual without offering your blood, not only will it be displeased, it will also not trust you."

"So, what if it doesn't trust me?" Sirius snapped. "I am not doing this to receive his trust or favor. I am doing this for my protection. Nothing else."

"Then, you must give it your blood. In exchange for its magic and protection, it requires something from you. That something is your blood. It is your choice, of course. No pressure. I am just saying that it would be more productive and wise of you if you just offered your blood and not waste any more time- time that we are running out of."

Sirius stared distrusting at the blade that his friend held tightly in his right hand. A symbolic little display; he was going to use his right hand to engrave the partial symbol of his Lord. He had no other choice if he wanted to protect himself and his mother from whatever would transpire after this night. Slowly, he raised his arm, the magic wrapping around the exposed skin of his left forearm excitedly. It had waited _so_ long for this day and could not conceal it content or excitement. Severus smiled at him. Without warning, he brought the sharpened edge of the blade to the middle of his inner forearm. He did not move. Before he proceeded with the physical part of the ritual, he looked up and met the discerning gaze of the man that stood before him.

He took in the sight greedily. This would be the final moment when he'll be able to see and witness the remaining human attributes at work. He will no longer be the boy he once knew, once chased around the once lively garden of his home; no, Sirius would never be the same. He was about to embark on a very vigorous, demanding journey. It was not the years of calculated and painstakingly executed training he had been subject to that drove people insane, to the chasm of disillusion. Not everyone who took the mark and went through the tormenting journey did not make it out alive and in their right state of mind. There was a slim chance that Sirius would die, that he would not survive the full awakening. Opening his concealed memories had been the first, agreeing to take the mark, but surviving the aftermath of it was the true awakening. If he survived, which Severus had no doubt he would, he will only be partially initiated in the organization Which meant there were things that he would not be allowed or asked to do, saving him for God knows how long from his Lord's demands. Although, he will be able to fully embrace the demon within. Whether or not he chose to do it now, or later in his life, was not his concern at the moment. Eventually, he would let go completely. Even though he agreed to the mark, it did not mean he was fully accepting of the thing that had taken residence within. As the Fates had dictated, he would eventually succumb to the full glory of darkness.

"Once we began, I cannot stop, Sirius." Severus whispered. "Do you understand?"

He nodded. "I understand."

Severus pressed the tip more firmly into the exposed underside of his arm, pushing it deeper and deeper until a single droplet of red beaded through the small cut. It was not enough for the ritual, of course. In order for his Lord to be satisfied, he needed a lot more blood. He looked up at his friend, his eyes shining with permission despite the words he had just uttered. The ritual had become the second his blood was spilled; there was no going back. Sirius exhaled a tightly held breath of trepidation, signaling to his friend that he was ready for him to proceed. The pain, after years of it, was just as hard to deal with as it was when he first felt its caress. No matter how much pain he had to deal with, he was determined to see the entire ritual through. He would not fail his mother, or the memory of the girl he had secretly loved when Fate played another cruel, taunting joke on him.

" _Datarius Cruor_ _Sacrificium_." Severus declared.

The sharpened point of the blade fully pierced his skin; a thin stream of blood ran down his arm in a single, even river. The silver tongue lapped up the precious life-proving blood of his ancestors, relishing in the metallic taste of it as his forearm began to burn once more. A burning sensation swept over him, causing him to shut his eyes tightly as he struggled to keep himself anchored to the earth. The pain was excruciating; more so than he had ever felt, or remembered. As Severus pierced him once again with the greedy knife another wave of pain shot up his arm. Another tiny prick appeared on his forearm. Severus continued on with the physical demands of the ritual until three distinctive lacerations could be seen. Two identical eyes stared back at him. His blood had stopped running, but a fresh stain trailed down to the length of his arm before the two separate lined joined as one. Another, long and slender, seemed to move as blood oozed out the deep incision. All three met converged together at the major vein of his arm. Sirius opened his eyes, throwing his head back in an attempt to block out the growing pain. The incision stung, his blood was still warm upon his cold skin. He felt utterly sick to his stomach.

Blood had been given; there was no turning back.

The flames ignited once more.


End file.
